FATHER AND DAUGHTER.
Demetrius was now eager to set out for Rome to behold once more the
child whom he had scarce hoped ever to see again. A happy leave-taking
of the brethren of Milan, who rejoiced in fraternal sympathy, followed;
and on a gently ambling mule, at break of day, the old man rode forth
beside the gallantly equipped Isidorus. He beguiled the weary way with
questions about his long-lost daughter, as to her growth, appearance,
her apparent health, and even the very garb she wore. He was never tired
hearing about her, and recounting incidents of her childhood and youth.
The only shadow upon his joy was the vague mystery concerning the fate
of his son. But he said cheerfully: "God is good. He has restored to me
one of my children. I feel confident that in His own good time He will
restore also the other."
Beneath the fatigue of the long journey of nearly three hundred miles
his powers would have failed, had he not been inspirited and sustained
by the thrilling anticipation of beholding once more his beloved child.
At length, near sunset, on the tenth day, they drew near the great
metropolis of the Empire. Clearer and clearer to the view rose the
seven-hilled city's pride, the snowy marble peristyles and pediments of
palace and temple, gleaming in the rosy light like transparent
alabaster. To the left rose the cliff-like walls of the Colosseum, even
then venerable with the time-stains of over two hundred years. In the
foreground stretched the long Aurelian Wall, with its towers and
battlements and strong arched gates. They crossed the Tiber by the
Milvian Bridge, built three hundred years before, and destined to
witness within ten years that fierce struggle for the mastery of the
empire, between Constantine and Maxentius, when the British-born Cæsar
saw, or thought he saw, in the mid-day heavens a blazing cross, and
exclaiming "By this sign we conquer," overwhelmed his adversary in the
rushing river.[31]
Passing under the hill crowned with the famous gardens of Lucullus, now
known as the Pincio, and beneath the heavy-arched gateway in the wall,
they made their way through the narrow streets towards the centre of the
city the--Forum and the Palatine. It was a day of festival--the last day
of the _Quinquatria_, or festival of Minerva. Garlands of flowers, and
wreaths of laurel, festooned many of the houses, in front of which
blazed coloured cressets and lamps. Sacred processions were passing
through the streets, with torches and music and chantings of priests;
and ever and anon the shrill blare of the sacred trumpets pierced the
ear of night. In the Forum the temples of Saturn, and of Castor, and
Pollux were richly adorned and brilliantly illuminated, and a great
throng of merry-makers filled the marble square.
Turning to the left, our travellers ascended the slope of the Palatine
Hill, amid ever-increasing grandeur of architecture. Demetrius, though
he had travelled far and seen much, was struck with astonishment at the
splendour and magnificence of the buildings. Not at Jerusalem, or
Damascus, or Antioch, not at Ravenna or Milan, had he witnessed such
wealth of porphyry and marble, such stately colonades and peristyles,
covering acres of ground--now but a mound of mouldering ruins.
"Whither art thou leading me?" asked Demetrius, as they stood before a
palace of snowy marble which, bathed in the mellow radiance of the
rising moon, seemed transformed into translucent alabaster.
"To the abode where dwells thy daughter, the favoured freed-woman of the
mistress of all this splendour," replied Isidorus, enjoying the wonder
and admiration of his companion in travel.
A fountain splashed in the centre of the square, its waters flashing
like silver in the moonlight. The burnished mail of the Roman soldiers
gleamed as the guard was changed, and their armour clashed as they
grounded their spears and saluted the officer of the watch.
"What, Max, are you on duty to-night?" said Isidorus as he recognized a
soldier of the guard. "Any promotion in your service yet?"
"No, but I see that there is in yours," said the bluff out-spoken
guardsman.
"Well, yes, I flatter myself that there is," replied the vain-glorious
Greek, "and I hope for still more."
Announcing to the chamberlain of the palace that he had just arrived
from a journey of important business for the Empress Valeria, he with
Demetrius were taken to a marble bath, where with the aid of a skilful
slave, they made their toilet for immediate presentation to the Empress.
Valeria was attended as usual by her freed-woman Callirhoë, when the
Greek was announced.
"We heard," she said to Isidorus, "by thy letters, of the failure of thy
quest at Ravenna and Milan, but we hope----"
At this moment, with an exclamation of intensest emotion Callirhoë
rushed forward and flung herself in the arms of the venerable figure
who had followed the Greek into the apartment.
"My father!" she cried in tones which thrilled every heart, and then she
embraced him again and again. The impassioned love and joy and gratitude
of her soul struggling for expression, she burst into a flood of tears.
"My daughter, child of my beloved Rachel," exclaimed the old man, as,
heedless of the presence of the Empress, he fondly caressed her, "do I
again embrace thee? Thou art the very image of thy angel-mother, as I
first beheld her in the rose gardens of Sharon. Truly God is good. Now,
Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace--the cup of my happiness
runneth over."
"Nay, good father," broke in the soft voice of the Empress, who was
deeply moved by the scene, "rather live to share thy daughter's love and
happiness."
"Pardon, august lady," said Demetrius, falling on his knees, and
gratefully kissing the Empress's hand. "Pardon, that in the joy of
finding my child I forgot the duty I owe to my sovereign."
"Thy first duty was there," said Valeria, pointing to the lovely
Callirhoë, who, smiling through her tears, was now leaning on her
father's arm. "We leave you to exchange your mutual confidences. Good
Isidorus it shall be our care to bestow a reward commensurate with thy
merit;" and she withdrew to her own apartment.
"My everlasting gratitude thou hast," said Callirhoë, with her sweetest
smile, frankly extending her hand.
"I am, indeed, well repaid," said the Greek, as he respectfully kissed
it. "I would gladly show my zeal in much more arduous service," and
bowing low, he was accompanied by the chamberlain to the vestibule. That
official gave him, by command of the Empress, a purse of gold, and
assured him of still further reward.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[31] A magnificent painting in the Vatican represents with vivid realism
this scene, the drowning of the Pagan Emperor, and the defeat and flight
of all his army.